#character: hm gray

[browniesnivy]

Harvest Moon 64 Memes

Been playing a lot of Harvest Moon 64 lately.

[kikithecoconut]

as much as tartatos as an arc traumatises me this is my favourite point to look back on laxus as a character because everything starts in magnolia

a few arcs ago he literally had all of magnolia at gunpoint (thunder point????) he was going to kill every person in the city (doubtful/j)

now at the beginning of tartaros he is willing to die for it . like the anti magic particles. he was ready to die for magnolia and his family and. god i love him

[mushed-kid]

quick hunk drawing because i felt like it

idk if the colors are right but i tried

[dootznbootz]

I think some folks MAY have gotten the wrong idea about how I feel about Circe with some of my posts. So, to clear the air...

Homies, I love that fucked up sorceress.

I love how we're never given a reason why she turns people into animals. That's so funny and so awful. And another potion-making magic gal?!?! I love that she's just basically vibing on an island doing whatever she wants. I even love the fact that she scares Odysseus shitless! She's morally gray and that's why she's FUN.

I just sincerely hate when people try to girlboss her or have her be a victim of SA when she never was Looking at you, Miller. Especially when she was actually the one who coerced Odysseus in exchange for his men being transformed back into humans. And even then, while he was clearly afraid of her, (it's in the language of the Odyssey) she likely meant him no harm after a certain point. He just didn't know that.

Why does she need a reason to do awful things? Why can't she just be a goddess who does whatever she wants? That's the reason why I love her!!! She's fucked up!!! :D

I hate what the Telegony did to her as well! >:( You're telling me, this sorceress goddess, who makes potions (!!!) wouldn't have magic contraceptives??? Would WANT CHILDREN?!?! WITH THE PATHETIC WIFEMAN?! No. Fuck no. Eugammon of Cyrene, I have beef with you 🤬

Anyways!!! Understand all the "#anti circe" I have is simply Anti "Girlboss Circe" or the book. I genuinely think she's neat af as her morally gray, fucked up sorceress self and just get frustrated with...everything :'D

[maulfucker]

Some sketcheys of this AU because I needed to get some of it out of my system

[mementoasts]

jonathan sims head archivist of the magnus institute london

[dragqueenpentheus]

not to be like. A Freak in the tags but

[ghostfacd]

YOU CAN LET GO NOW ! | TOM BLYTH

PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

SUMMARY. in which tom blyth can’t let go of your hand after an intense argument scene in your film

installment of this au | your character and Tom’s lines in the film are written in italics

“Action!”

Tom and you have probably been on your tenth cut by now, the scene was an argument between yours and his character, Balleona and Coriolanus. It was fierce and intense, filled with lots of angry yelling and a few tears.

Needless to say, your director was on both of your asses to make sure you got everything down perfectly, from the lines and hand movements to the crocodile tears.

“You can’t just expect everything to be okay Coriolanus!” You yell exasperated. You look up at Tom, who was currently looking down at you with a cold gaze. “You decided to cheat! You decide to risk your entire career for Lucy Gray, now you go sit with the consequences!”

Tom slams his hand on the table nearby, making you flinch back. “I had to! I did it for us! All of it! The rat poison—the scarf—I did everything for us! And now you repay me by yelling at me like a child?!”

You push Tom back with an accusing finger, eyes lingering with hurt. “You’re acting like a child Coriolanus Snow! I told you that my family has enough money, enough for you to go to university. But you just had to ruin the entire system, didn’t you? Is it Lucy Gray? The disgusting filth from District 12? Is she influencing you?”

Tom places his hand on your chin, grabbing it harshly, making you let out a whine.

“You don’t speak about her like that, do you understand?” Tom tightens his grip, making your hands come up to try to get out of his grasp. “Do you understand?!” He yells, causing you to close your eyes tightly.

“Let me go, you’re hurting me.” You say, “Coryo, let go, you’re hurting me.”

Tom’s eyes suddenly switched from anger to softness, and he lets go of his hold on your face. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

He brings you into a hug, letting you bury your head into his chest. “You know I didn’t mean it right? You know you’re more important to me than Lucy Gray—that’s why I did all of this. It was for you.”

You nod, letting out a few tears. Tom breaks the hug to hold your hand, his other one coming up to wipe them away.

“And.. cut!”

Tom stops wiping the tears that have fallen down to your cheeks, sighing in relief when the director says that they don’t have to redo the scene again.

However, he’s still holding tightly on your hand, nodding slowly at each of the words that come out from the director’s mouth.

“You okay?” You whisper to him.

“Hm? Yeah, no, I’m fine.” He reassures you, smiling down at your figure. “I’m a bit thirsty. Water?”

You smile and nod, letting him walk you two over to the water dispenser. He’s still holding firmly onto your hand, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by your co stars, Rachel and Josh.

“Geez Blyth, do you always have such a possessive hold on our dear Y/N here?” Rachel jokes, smiling teasingly at you two.

You roll your eyes, looking up at your boyfriend. He doesn’t seem to hear Rachel’s words, instead, focusing on getting the two of you water.

“Do you want some Rachel? Josh?”

“I’m good,” Rachel replies, “and Josh is too. We were gonna head out to this smoothie place for our lunch break.”

“Ah.” With his free hand, Tom pulls you closer to him until you’re practically leaning against him. “Well have fun you two.”

Rachel and Josh say their thanks, but before they leave, Rachel slips by you, whispering “he’s stuck to you like glue, isn’t he?” in your ear.

You try to hold in your smile, butterflies filling your stomach. Despite shooting the scene 15 minutes ago, Tom was still holding onto your hand as if you were his lifeline.

“Hey babe,” you say, which automatically makes all the gears in Tom’s hand focus their attention on you.

“Hm?”

“How come you’re still holding onto my hand?”

He seems to be surprised at your words, glancing down briefly at your intertwined fingers.

“Oh, I didn’t realize.” He says, shrugging.

“Yeah,” you tease him. “Obsessed with me aren’t you?”

He rolls his eyes, but nods in agreement. “Just a habit I guess. I felt really bad for yelling at you so much in the scene and grabbing your face. I’d never do that in real life.”

You let out a laugh, making Tom furrow his eyebrows in confusion.

“Aww Tom,” you say, leaning into his chest with your head. “I know you would never do that in real life baby. It’s just acting.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I just hate arguing with you, whether it’s acting or not. Coriolanus is a loser for not realizing what he has, you know.”

Now that made you laugh even louder, “yeah, but Tom Blyth is a sweetheart.” You tippy toe to reach his nose, placing a small kiss on the bridge of it. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[ilyuan]

⋆ ˚ ꩜ "you're the most handsome man i know" trope hehe

PAIRINGS. alhaitham 〳 zhongli 〳 wriothesley x gn . reader

CW. jealousy lawl 〳 insecure bbies but u reassure them 〳 slight ooc characters 〳 lmk if i missed anything :]

NOTE. i know jing yuan is the header but shh he's adorable so we don't talk about it

ALHAITHAM ꒱

with the gray haired sleepy head "resting his eyes" on your lap as he quoted, your eyes couldn't help but drift towards the small features you always adored so very much.

"haitham," you randomly spoke, to which he looked up to you, his eyes weary and his throat raspy as he eyes you up and down, waiting for you to say the oh-so-important thing that interrupted his peaceful sleep.

"you know you're really pretty, right?" you smiled, his eyes shutting for two seconds then opening again as soon as he heard your words, i mean, you tell him that everyday, so why would he overthink about it?

you notice his confused state, and so you begin to speak once more, not knowing that your words would sent a mental alarm in him.

"i mean," you pause, "you are the most handsome man i know."

as much as you like the small pink rising across his cheeks, it instantly fades away as he glares up at you.

"what?" you glare back at him jokingly, basically just trying to test the waters.

of course you knew how alhaitham was like, but what you didn't know is that he can get insecure from time to time but you're completely unaware of it.

with kaveh always bugging him about something that happened in the akademiya, he can hardly catch the peaceful moments with you like this, which led you to your obliviousness to his insecurities that formed when he was away from you.

"you know other men?" he finally speaks.

"..."

"just accept the compliment," you playfully roll your eyes, to which he turns his head away from you to.

"no no, i'm sorry, you're the only man i know," you quickly reassure, to which his eyes practically light up to.

ZHONGLI ꒱

in the middle of you and zhongli's conversation that involved his unusual gossiping about his stressful day at work today, he cleared his throat, a usual sign that he was about to change the topic.

"what is it?" you instantly notice his eyes forming into almost pleading ones, which was very unusual for him.

"could you grab me a cup of tea real quick? i've been feeling a bit dehydrated during this conversation," he speaks, patting you on the shoulder twice, it always worked.

you looked him in his golden eyes and your confusion was very obvious to him.

"not proper of me, hm?" he smiles at you, his lips tugging up back into that gentle smile he always praised you with.

"not really, no," you laugh.

he loved that laugh. the laugh that always warmed his heart whenever he had the time to do things like this with you.

the laugh that he gained from you.

"beautiful," he catches you off guard as you begin walking to the now boiling hot water to make his tea.

"you're one to talk," you smirk, "you're the most beautiful man i know, zhongli."

he raises his brows, "oh? you've never told me about anyone, dear," he teases.

"oh," you pause in your tracks, your hand on the warming pot of water which you didn't notice until it got hotter, "that's not what i meant, silly."

"you're burning your hand there, dear, be careful," he teases again, but this time it's more like a warning for you not to get hurt.

"you distract me too much, i'm almost done with it," you turn your head back around to face him, the pot now fully heated up, ready for you to prepare it for the tea you have been holding back on him ever since he started teasing you.

WRIOTHESLEY ꒱

assisting your boyfriend in his work was stressful, yes, but you couldn't lie all the time when it came to going down to the pankration ring.

"you're not doing it right," he comes up from behind you, guiding your hands to help you aim your bow at the upcoming red ball.

"pull your string back and once your arrow is there, aim it at the middle of the ball," he assists you, and your mind can't help but be caught onto his voice and the guidance of his hands holding yours.

"careful, you don't wanna hurt yourself," he teases when he notices you staring at his strong arms assisting you, "you zone out too much, love," he laughs.

"and you pay attention to everything too much, love," you tease, emphasizing the word 'love' to catch him off guard like he did to you.

right after that, he faces you towards him and raises a brow.

"what? cat caught your tongue?" you giggle and put your index finger to his lips, practically a way to tell him to be quiet.

he takes your finger off his lips and shakes his head 'no'.

"ugh," you roll your eyes, "you're lucky you're the most handsome man i know," you continue, to which he tilts his head at.

"do you still want help with this or not, [name]?" he smirks at you, noticing your instincts.

"i gave you a compliment, what do you mean?" you tease, to which he sighs at.

"other men?" he rolls his eyes back at you, to which you instantly notice his insecurities about your words.

well, yes this was your whole plan, to tease him like you always do to each other, but you didn't know he'd get jealous!

"wait, i'm sorry," you frown, "it was a joke," you continue, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"don't do that again or i'm not letting you see sigewinne for a week," he chuckles, hugging you back, to which you instantly pulled away and looked at him with wide eyes.

"you're joking right?"

SUGARMOUCHIE © do not copy / translate / repost my works on other platforms, thank u :3

[astrxealis]

hi good evening (still obsessed with milgram) ... !! ffs i am so busy oh my god but anyway rq, i know i've said a teensy bit about my feelings towards some characters but tbh it all is so complex and honestly i love milgram sm bcs. i used to think about those kinda stuff a lot (still do but was kinda on pause! back again now <3)

[fyodoro]

ೃ༄ JUST AN INCH AWAY…

ft. Alhaitham, Scaramouche, and Wriothesley

… who said making out was the only way to escape such a predicament? neither of you, apparently. but if it works, it works— even if it wasn’t intentional.

gn!reader, suggestive but not rlly bordering on smut, puzzles gone wrong, forced proximity and enemies with tension type thing, lots of kissing, lots of making out, profanity, harbinger scara, akademiya/academic rival alhaitham | wc : 5.4k

a big thank you to @vxnuslogy for going over scara’s bit for me cause i’ve grown vv unfamiliar with his character over the years, so thank you vee !!

ALHAITHAM (1.7k wc)

”I swear to Archons, the second I get out of here I’m burning your thesis to ashes.”

Alhaitham’s unbothered expression didn’t falter. “Such a bold assumption. You really think you’re capable of escaping without me?” he reviled, using the split-second your mind went blank as an opportunity to shove you away to an adjacent wall.

Your brows furrowed, hand clutching your side in response to the fleeting moment of pain. “You better do something if this bruises, asshole,” you sneered.

”What sense does it make for me to do something about someone else’s problem?” he retorted, gray strands gone astray as he ran a hand through them.

This might’ve been the most stressed out you’ve ever seen him, you think. It makes plenty of sense, too. You wouldn’t be shocked if he was living out his worst nightmare right now. Two of the things he hates most— you, and a problem he can’t solve— is all he has to work with right now.

Actually, calling this his worst nightmare might be the understatement of the century.

“Two Akademiya students trapped in a cell… oh, all the possibilities. Did I mention they hate each other? That’s a key detail if I do say so myself.”

”I’m trying to focus here,” he said, tone as cold as the very peak of Dragonspine. 

You squatted down beside him, watching his skillful hands work with the broken device that got you trapped here in the first place. “You’re trying to focus, I’m bored. You don’t wanna spend your potential last minutes alive with me, and vice versa. Let’s face it, neither of us are winning here, so you might as well stop being a buzzkill for once.”

”These won’t be my last moments alive, but they might be yours if you don’t pipe down.”

You frowned without another word, surveying his working hands as they meticulously fidgeted with the dysfunctional rune. They’re… nice, you think, oddly enough. The thought alone made you wanna gag, but it wouldn’t be the first time you noticed them.

It also wouldn’t be the first time you noticed his nose scrunches whenever he’s concentrated. You’ve seen it plenty of times, but in this instance, it’s different— you’ve never seen it close up before. Every other time you just happened to catch it from across your shared classroom amidst a lesson, or the Akademiya’s library. No matter the case, there’s never been an appropriate time to tease him about it.

Does this count as an appropriate time? Probably not, but your mouth thinks otherwise.

“You’re gonna have bunny lines by the time you’re 24 if you don’t stop doing that.”

For a moment, he stops. His darkly lit nose inhaled deeply before turning to you, exasperation evident in his eyes. 

“That’s hypocritical, you do it more than me.”

You didn’t waste a second to fire back, eyes locking in on his with jest. “So you confess? You’ve been staring at me, hm?” 

“Do you hear yourself? You admitted the same thing just a moment ago,” he breathed, voice hitching in his throat from the intense irritation he was feeling. He opened his mouth hastily to speak again, but closed it just as fast, resuming his repair of the broken device. 

You scoffed, standing back up to stretch your limbs with a yawn. Just how long has it been now? Minutes? Hours? There was only so much longer you could take, and your patience was running just as thin as Alhaitham’s. 

“Surprise, surprise… you’re doing it again.”

“When we get out of here, I’m sending you to those Kshahrewar scholars. Maybe they’ll be able to install a mute button on you.” 

“I just think you’re jealous of me. Y’know, people actually like me, but I know that’s not the case for you.”

“Fortunately, I couldn't care any less about anyone’s opinion of me. Unlike you, remember?” he reminded, looking up at you from the corner of his eye. “You had a breakdown in the library because you eavesdropped on a group of Amurta students calling you a stuck-up know-it-all.”

Your teeth clenched together, brain stuttering over its thoughts. “That’s because I’m not! I didn’t even know any of them, they were just making stuff up—“

Alhaitham’s ears tuned you out, index finger clicking the last piece together on the rune, getting it to light up successfully. He wiped beads of sweat off his forehead before picking himself up off the ground with a small huff.

“That’s why I was so upset, okay?” you finished, arms shrugged in a defensive manner. Your lips were pressed into a straight line, and your brows only raised at the realization— he wasn’t listening to a single word you said.

“Save your breath,” he started, gesturing to the supposedly fixed mechanism. “We’ll be out of each other’s sight soon.”

“Ohoho,” you chuckled dryly, “not soon enough.” 

You crouched down to the newly repaired rune, fidgeting with it as the symbols changed. Not a single one made the small cell’s bars budge, let alone lift. Slapping a hand to your forehead, you groaned in defeat. 

“Well my good friend, aren’t you just a genius,” you taunted.

“If you had a sliver of patience in that dense head of yours, you’d have known to wait another minute or so.”

“In my defense, you never told me to wait,” you spat. “In fact, it sounded like you wanted me to try it out just so you could call me a fool.”

He closed his eyes, rubbing his temples immediately. “Don’t twist my words. The only one making yourself look like a fool is you.”

“Archons,” you cried out. “All of this could’ve been avoided if you weren’t such a dickhead.”

“And we could’ve had a peaceful time in here if you knew how to shut up.”

“The only way you’re getting me to shut up is if you make me. Otherwise, it’ll be a hot, sunny day in Snezhnaya when I decide to listen to you.”

That was Alhaitham’s final straw. 

“Make you?” he spoke, tall frame slowly moving down towards yours on the ground. The only source of light came from a lone torch beyond the bars that enclosed your cell, and the tiny blue light that glowed from the rune. “Just how can I ‘make you’ shut up?”

You shrugged, taking a moment to note how much closer he was compared to before. 

“Not a clue my dude, not a clue,” you said, mischief lacing your voice. “Unless…”

“Unless?”

“Oh, you know… unless you have a bright idea.” 

You tilted your head to the side, smirking as confliction appeared on his face. His brows have been furrowed for some time now due to your antics, though right now, they looked as if they were slanted out of focus, not fury. The lack of light made it hard to see his eyes clearly, but you swear you caught a glint of desire hidden within them.

He grabbed the back of your head with a solid grip, closing the gap between your faces as his lips took over yours. 

Your eyes shut out of instinct, though his remained half lidded for a few more seconds. He didn’t miss how speedy you were to kiss back, not to mention grab onto his gray locks. You tugged on them, hard. It was just the push he needed to pull your body closer to his, leaving no more space between you two.

Contrary to his cold attitude, his lips were warm, wait— no, he was warm. His body warmed yours, heat rushing to all parts of your body as he moved his hand down from the back of your head to your lower back, holding on tightly when you moved against him. 

Paired with the heat of the moment, the action pulled a small moan from your lips. Alhaitham’s quick thinking allowed him to slide his tongue past your lips at the opening. You didn’t give any pushback, eagerly accepting the wet muscle with a quiet whine. 

Hands flew everywhere— his hair was nothing short of a mess, and you were sure yours wasn’t so neat either. Each time you broke away for air was cut short by Alhaitham, who couldn’t bear a single second without attacking your lips. The only noises that filled the confined room were his grunts and your quiet whimpers, though an occasional moan was thrown into the mix. 

You felt his strong arms move you back, attempting to push your back against the ground for better control. However, his efforts went to waste as you yelped, breaking the kiss to turn around and fiddle with something.

“Oh shit,“ you uttered under your breath. “Look at what you pushed me into.”

He moved away from your body, taking a minute to catch his breath before averting his attention to behind you. What he saw was something be couldn’t believe he forgot about— the rune that got you both stuck in the first place.

As if on cue, it began to blink, followed by thick bars lifting into the ceiling. You laughed loudly, feverish look still apparent on your face from what happened moments prior. 

“You—“ he started, standing up from the cell’s floor in embarrassment. “You are not to speak of this, we are not to bring this up again, got that?” 

Extending a hand out to you, he helped pull you off the ground begrudgingly. You scratch the back of your head sheepishly, looking at anything that wasn’t Alhaitham.

“No promises?” 

He could only scoff at your response, exiting the cell that he so desperately wanted to escape from not so long ago with a frown. Before he could reach the stairwell that led you down here, he turned back to face you. 

“Are you coming?” 

“I— uh…” you stumbled over your words, trying to make sense of everything that just transpired. “Yes! Don’t go without me, you hear?”

He rolled his eyes. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

If this ever happens again, you can only hope your “undying” hatred for Alhaitham won’t waver afterwards. Now you have to bicker with an asshole who just so happened to have had his tongue in your mouth… not to mention he might be the best kisser you’ve ever met.

Great.

SCARAMOUCHE (1.3k wc)

The room was tight, stuffy, and so hot. 

Well, maybe the heat you felt was your own body temperature. It’s a natural reaction, you think. Yeah, a very, very natural reaction to being in such close proximity with someone you just so happened to find attractive. 

Pushing your bubbling feelings aside, you acknowledge the situation at hand. 

“This is your fault— all your fault!” 

“My fault? Did you forget who set off the wrong mechanism?” Scaramouche barked, furious eyes narrowing in on you. “Incase you somehow forgot, allow me to refresh that poor little memory of yours— it was you,” he hissed, the faint shadow of a smirk etched across his lips added a venom drip onto his words.

You rolled your eyes with a scoff, one that could most definitely be heard from the outside of the small chamber you found yourself trapped in. Seriously, who in their right mind thought it’d be a good idea to send you and the 6th Harbinger on a mission together? No, scratch that. Who thought it’d be a good idea to send him on a mission with anyone besides his masochistic subordinates?

The Tsarsita, apparently. 

Searching for any sign of an exit, your hand brushed against Scaramouche’s. For once, he landed on the same page as you.

“What do you think you're doing?” he spat, swatting your hand away as if it were a mere little fly.

You backed yourself against the wall defensively. The old bricks only extended a few feet wide; just a mere foot away from the other side, too. Unfortunately, this is physically the closest you’ve ever been to the Inazuman, a fact that made you sick. Archons, did it have to be him? Of all people, why was he the one you were trapped with?

“I’m trying to get us out of here. Y’know, so I don’t have to stare at your wretched face any longer.”

“No one’s forcing you to stare at anything, moron.” Groaning, his head motioned back to hit the wall behind it. “Look! So much dust, so much dirt, and it’s all right in front of you!” he sneered tauntingly. “How about you count every little dust particle your eyes can see while I get us out of here?” 

You hadn’t even realized he’d been drawing closer and closer the longer he spoke. Unintentionally, probably. Still, there was hardly any space to begin with, and now he literally had you cornered. 

That part may be intentional, you think.

“I’d rather count every single split-end from that hair of yours, since the darkness wasn’t kind enough to hide them for you.”

He deadpanned at your rebuttal, “Oh, like that has to do with anything.”

“I’m sure I’ll still be counting even after we get out of here,” you tauntingly whispered, face unconsciously growing closer to his. “If you’d open your mind for a moment… I’d recommend seeing a barber when we return.”

“You little—“ his voice came to an abrupt stop, gleaming eyes sharpening in the dimly lit room as he gritted his teeth. 

“Little what? Go on, don’t cut yourself off now,” you mocked, a grin of michief creeping onto your features. “Am I a little bitch, or a little pest? Oh, maybe you had something more creative in mind? Come on now, don’t keep me wai—“

Before you could finish your sentence— hell, before he could think, his lips lunged at yours, capturing them between his own as he pinned your hands on either side of your head firmly.

Your eyes were blown wide, pupils dilated in shock as you processed what was happening. The Balladeer was kissing you. He went from taunting you… to… kissing you…? And it felt good? You didn’t think you hated it. No, you definitely didn’t hate it. 

Kissing back slowly, you gripped onto the hands that restrained yours for better support. Oddly enough, his hold loosened, opting to intertwine your fingers instead. 

He felt something. Heat, maybe? Yeah, that must be it. It was hot. Obviously his mechanical body wasn’t immune to the dangers of overheating, especially when it’s pressed up against an even warmer body. It wasn’t like anything he felt before— of course he felt himself craving more. 

He broke the kiss briefly to hoist you upwards, moving his hands down to signal you to jump. Without thinking, you wrapped your legs around his slim frame instinctively. His hands that went from yours, to beneath your knees, now kept a firm grip on the plush of your thighs as the kiss deepened.

Small snippets of air was all you needed to keep going, something Scaramouche didn’t understand. Every time you pulled away for a gasp of air, his brows furrowed in judgment. Humans, he thinks to himself. Not even lust can cloud their senses. The string of saliva was all that connected your bodies. That is— if you didn’t count your hold around his neck or his now wandering hands. 

As he dove back in to resume, you felt yourself pushed against the wall— harder, somehow. The force had you groan, now feeling just how dirty the small room was. Scaramouche couldn’t give a shit, of course. Instead, he thought now was the perfect moment to trail his lips down to your neck. 

Your head lolled back, allowing him all the access he needed. He nipped and nipped— creating a pattern between sucking, biting, and kissing. Honestly, you were too dazed to care if he left a mark at this point. You let your thighs tremble in his hold, aching from both the thrill and the need. Letting your head rest against the wall entirely, you—

Bump!

Both yours and Scaramouche’s eyes widened, only to close tightly at the sudden light. He turned away from you, squinting at the brightness that came in the other direction. “What the…”

Oh, the door lifted.

“How did it—“

The Balladeer’s hands dropped from your body, retreating to his sides. You still kept a hold on him— limbs not showing any sign of letting him move freely, but you were just as perplexed as him. 

“Let go.”

“If you drop me and I break something, you better pay for—“

He rolled his eyes, forcing your legs off of him and sliding down to escape your grip around his neck. You fell, hard. Grumbling to yourself, you stood back up on your own two feet with annoyance. 

Freedom was just a foot away, yet neither of you moved an inch. Scaramouche’s eyes darted from you, to the wall behind you, catching the key to the chamber’s doors. 

Of course.

He pressed his hand against the loose brick. “Your head was right here, correct?”

“I’m pretty sure… yeah?” you answered, turning around to examine his actions. 

He slapped his forehead in agitation, laughing to himself. You were starting to catch on now, understanding what caused your escape route. 

“I can’t believe it,” he breathed, chuckling. “You were so needy, your big head somehow pushed the brick that opened the doors.” 

For once, you ignored his insult. “Then— can we get out of here before it closes again?”

His eyes darkened, returning to his menacing aura. You gulped, feeling less cocky after the predicament you found yourself in a minute prior. He pointed his index finger at you— as if he were about to order you around like one of his subordinates.

“Only if you agree to never speak of this to anyone, you got that?”

You nodded slowly, itching to get out of here and complete this mission in another few hours. “Okay… okay.”

“Good,” he started, turning his back to you. “We can finish this later, but that’ll be it.”

That was, in fact, not the last time such an encounter occurred between you both. But hey, there’s a thin line between hate and love, right? 

Surely it wouldn’t be a problem to dance on that line a little longer…

WRIOTHESLEY (2.3k wc)

How in Teyvat does the very Duke of the Fortress of Meropide forget his keys? Better yet, how did the lock on the outside of the cell click on its own?

“This place is haunted, it’s gotta be,” you wailed, dramatically flopping yourself down on the cell’s stiff mattress. “Hey, Great ol’ Duke, I’ve got an idea for you.”

The hands that were previously fiddling with the lock on the other side of the cell came to a halt. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before darting his eyes in your direction. 

“Oh, sure. Please, tell me, what are you scheming this time?” 

“Me? Scheming? Just how little do you think of me?”

He huffed, giving his attention back to the matter at hand: getting out of this cell and far, far away from you.

“I don’t think anything of you, but I do know,” he grumbled, cursing himself for never gluing the keys to his hand. “And what I know is that you should’ve been out of here the moment your sentence ended. But instead, you thought it’d be fun to stick around and climb the ranks amongst the gardes here.”

“With ease, if you don’t mind adding that bit on.”

“I do, actually.”

“Whatever,” you whisper to yourself, staring up at the ceiling that reached so high above. By now it was a view you were sick of, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

All you wanted to do was give Wriothesley his daily dose of torment. Instead, you wound up following him into an old cell, one that he meant to clean up before the door slammed shut, effectively locking the two of you back up. Both yours and his blood ran cold at the realization: you were trapped— together.

“This might be the worst day of my life,” he said, stone-faced. 

“You and me both, Duke.”

He slid down the wall next to the cell door, legs spread out as his head hung low in defeat. “We’re gonna be here for a while before someone gets us outta here.”

“And the thinker of the year award goes to… Wriothesley! Congrats, you figured out the obvious,” you cheered, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “I’ll get you a medal sometime soon, don’t worry.”

“Aren’t you a thoughtful one,” he deadpanned, sick to his stomach from your presence alone. 

“Aren’t I?” you mused. 

He let out a deep sigh, wishing he had someone else to keep him company right now. Sigwinnie would be his top pick, with the Traveler coming as a close second. But you? Yeah, you weren’t even last on the list of people he’d pick; not a trace of your name could even be found on it.

The goal was to tidy up some old cells, maybe a few of the bathrooms too if he was feeling up to it. Unfortunately, nothing comes according to plan for Wriothesley when you're in a three mile radius. You’ve made it your life’s goal to annoy him to bits— torture him to bits, as he thinks of it. So when he saw you making your way down the same hall as him, he tried to make a beeline out of your sight.

Key word: tried.

He tried, and failed miserably.

He pats his pockets down once again, making sure he didn’t miss his keys the last four times he checked. To no avail, there was nothing. Awesome— great, he thinks. This might be the worst mistake of his life.

“You do realize…” he began, standing back up to peer outside the strong bars. “If you hadn’t followed me around like some annoying pest— which you are, by the way— there might’ve been someone on the other side of these bars to alert someone sooner.”

You laughed at the seriousness in his voice. “You must be really deluded to think that I’d ever bother helping you out in any shape, way, or form.”

“That’d be a charge,” he informed, as if he knew every little detail in Fontaine’s code of law. “Reckless endangerment, that’s what they call it.”

“Yeah, they call it reckless endangerment. I like to call it minding my own business.”

He scoffed, crossing his arms from across the room. “It’s a miracle you’ve yet to face another trial.”

“I’m wounded,” you cried out, sitting up from the hard mattress. “To believe you’d think I’d ever commit another crime… I feel my heart breaking already.” 

The poor performance you put on was entertaining, he’d give you that much. As much as he disliked you, even he couldn’t deny the intriguing aura you carried. Would he admit it out loud? Absolutely not. But thinking of a foe’s positive trait couldn’t hurt, right? 

Maybe a little…

Staring off into nothing, you missed the moment Wriothesley treaded closer to you. Snapping out of your daze, your eyes shot up at his, shifting from a gaze to a glare in a millisecond. 

“Visiting hours are closed, come back another time— but keep in mind they’ll still be closed.” 

“Not visiting, just trying to take a seat that isn’t on a filthy floor,” he corrected, gesturing to move from the middle of the bed to the end.

“You sure you don’t need a check up from Sigwinnie?” you laughed dryly, finding humor in his train of thought. “Seriously, what makes you think I’m sharing a bed with you?”

“Don’t make it sound like that—“

“Like what?” you cut off, grinning to no one but yourself. “Like we’re sharing a bed all night? Like we’re gonna snuggle up next to each other because we’re so deprived of warmth? Oh, maybe you’re thinking it’ll end up with us—“

He lets you ramble, ignoring each word that slips from your lips; allowing his brain to replace the sound of your voice with the sound of a fly that’s been buzzing in his office all day. No longer caring about close proximity, he plopped himself down on the bed with a soft grunt. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” you sneered, shoving his annoyingly muscular frame away from you. 

“Laying down,” he said, letting his arms spread out across the bed— one of which landing behind you. “I might as well get comfortable for the time being.”

You glared down at him, feeling your eye twitch at his antics. “Well now I’m not comfortable thanks to you. I’m sure the floor would be far more welcoming, don’t you agree?” 

“I only agree with the voice in my head, wanna guess what he’s saying?” He stared blankly at the ceiling above as he spoke, starting to feel exhaustion cloud over his mind.

“Not really.”

“Too bad, I’m telling you anyway.” Moving the hand behind your figure, he pointed at his head. “He’s telling me you should shut up before I’m forced to do something about it.” 

You laughed meekly, “Well, isn’t he just a little comedian in the making.” 

“There you go. See, it wasn’t that hard, was it? I knew you were capable of saying something with an ounce of truth.”

“That was sarcasm, Duke.”

“Doesn’t change the fact you said it, so…” He sat up slowly, now plastered to your side as he stared daggers into you. “I don’t care.”

You shifted in your spot, goosebumps crawling up your skin at the room’s sudden change of mood. As much as you hated the man (for no apparent reason other than conflicting personalities, if you may add), it didn’t make you blind to his looks— body— his charm. 

Those factors only fuel your hatred, actually. 

Over the years, spoiling Wriothesley’s day has become a part of your daily routine. Every day you woke up with the same recurring thought: ‘What’ll piss him off today?’ and ‘How will he respond today?’ 

Whenever you don’t run into him, you can’t help but feel disappointed. "Maybe tomorrow,” you’d say to yourself at day’s end, thinking of all the ways you can get on his nerves later. 

You hated him so, so much. You only hated him more when he wasn’t a part of your day. 

“Getting a little close there, arentcha?” 

“You’ve yet to push me away, too,” he noted. 

You stared into your lap with an unreadable expression. “Don’t get the wrong idea or anything, you’re just a good— decent substitute for a heater.” 

He hummed, going silent for a minute or so. For once, it felt… peaceful between you two. If peaceful was even the right word, which you and him both doubted. 

Tense might be a better way to describe the atmosphere. 

“If you’d prefer a better heater…” he started, voice trailing off as he furrowed his brows at his thoughts. “I can improve myself, if you don’t mind.”

If you don’t mind? You were taken aback in confusion, unsure of what he was implying. “What are you talking about? How… how would that even work?”

His lips press into a thin line for a second, a second that you regretfully missed. When you do look at him, he’s no longer glaring at you— just staring. It was hard to make out the emotions written across his face. Unsure? Confident? Both, somehow?

He took a deep breath. “Like this,” he said before diving in.

Grayish-blue eyes shut tightly as his lips locked onto yours. Your lips parted farther in shock, giving his tongue access almost immediately. This isn’t an opportunity anyone can come by quite easily with Wriothesley— or you for that matter. Wanting those bragging rights more so than he himself, you indulged in his feverish kiss while you could.

But oh— he was right. It was so much warmer now, no longer feeling the chills you felt earlier. You hated when he was right, despised it, even. The strong feelings only escalated the kiss further, and Archons… not once did you think Wriothesley of all people would be able to turn you to mush so easily. 

Your lungs burned for oxygen, as did his. You both pulled away for a moment, staring into each other’s clouded eyes without a thought.

“I don’t mind,” you responded to his question from before. “Well— as long as you don’t mind.”

He opened his mouth to speak, only to get cut off by you pouncing on him. You were no longer at each other’s sides, turning at an awkward angle to indulge in one another. Now, you had him pinned down to the old, bare mattress, moving your lips against his with far more rhythm than before.

Kissing back, he managed to motion his wrists out of your grip, leaving you to stutter over your movements before settling your hands on either side of his chest, still straddling him. As for him, his hands didn’t hesitate to hold onto your hips. 

In all fairness, this is a pretty effective way to get each other to shut up. It kept your mouths busy, not to mention it was hot, something you never thought you’d hear yourself think regarding Wriothesley.

Your hands moved to his bi-colored locks, tugging on the gray and black strands to keep yourself grounded as his hands explored your body. You hate that you’re enjoying this as much as you are. It’d be a different story if this were anyone else— then you’d bask in the pleasure without complaint. But this is the man you swore you wanted dead for years…

Much to your dismay, that thought only added more thrill to the situation. 

The kiss was wet— messy. Every break for air was spent uncovering every little detail on his face. He has nice eyelashes, you think. His eyes also look really fucking pretty when they’re half-lidded like this. Going back in, you felt a soft squeeze on your ass, which was soon followed by Wriothesley breaking the kiss.

You looked down at him with a curious gaze, brow lifted in both annoyance and wonder. Before you could ask what’s wrong, he pushed you off him in one swift motion.

Yelping in surprise, you sharpened your glare. “The hell was that for? If you wanted to stop, you coulda just said that!” 

“Check your pocket.” he demanded, now standing up with his arms crossed over his chest.

“My pocket?” You stared at him in disbelief, a flurry of emotions sworming your brain. 

He didn’t reply, only staring you down harder than before. With no other option, you dug your hand into your back pocket, eyes widening the second you felt metal.

Right… that’s how you got into this mess in the first place.

Chuckling awkwardly, you revealed the ring of keys to Wriothesley, holding them up besides your face in embarrassment.

He didn’t move, only glaring at you even more now that you’ve been caught.

“So…” your voice dragged out, eyes trailing down to the floor. “I may or may not have stolen these from you when you weren’t looking. Y’know, before we got stuck in here. And… I may or may not have… uh, forgot? Yeah, I forgot I had these.”

You stood from the bed shamefully, planting the keys in his hand without a glance. He stood still for a moment, too baffled at the absurdity of the past— what was it? Hour? 30 minutes? 

He cleared his throat. “I think it goes without saying that I’m getting back at you for this. Later, that is.”

You nodded your head, mentally noting to avoid him at all costs for the remainder of the week— no matter how much it conflicts with your usual routine. The keys jingled from across the room, where Wriothesley was now finally unlocking the cell door.

“I’ll be on my way,” you chirped, attitude doing a complete 180. 

Before you could exit the run-down cell, someone gripped the back of your shirt.

“Not so fast,” he chuckled darkly. “You’re coming with me.”

You gulped, blood draining from your face at his words. “Oh, am I now?” you mocked quietly, not a bit of confidence to be heard in your voice for once.

“We need to pick up where we left off, don’t we? I can throw my pay back in, too.”

At least you and him have an… ethical… way of shutting each other up now…

© fyodoro 2024. i do not permit plagiarism, translations, or reposts of my work on any platform.

[yzzart]

"Oh, hello, Vogue!"

pairing: Tom Blyth x actress!reader.

summary: invited by Vogue, you and Tom participate in a famous panel about answering quick questions.

word count: 1.323!

notes: here it is! i focused all day, without drama, on this writing and finished it minutes ago. — enjoy!

"We're, like, Patrick and Kat!" — Tom nodded in agreement, looking and paying attention to your words and almost forgetting that you were being recorded. — "Anakin and Padmé?" — You wrinkled your nose gracefully.

"Lady and the Tramp?" — He suggested, smiling tenderly and was won over by your laugh and a long touch on his arm made by you.

"Oh my god, yes!"

"Hi, Vogue!" — In a gesture of introducing yourself, you waved to the camera in front of you accompanied by an inviting and friendly smile. — "I'm Y/N."

"And I'm Tom Blyth." — Tom introduced himself to the camera and future viewers. — "… and we are about to play Off the Cuff." — He moved the small cards, which contained countless and random questions, and directed his eyes to you.

"Uh, a great entrance!" — You crossed your legs, making yourself comfortable on the chain, and held out the small cards as your eyebrows arched at Tom.

"Thank you, my dear." — He winked at you and took, carefully and planning a bit of suspense, one of the white cards; the topics were random, they could be about TBOSAS, behind the scenes or something related to your relationship. — Everything was a mystery. — "What was the last song you listened to?"

"Hm…" — You rested one of your hands on your chin, trying to fake a thoughtful image. — "A song, which is still unknown to me, that you hummed in the morning." — Your laugh was registered and echoed throughout the room, and Tom was amused when he remembered what happened. — "I should have recorded it!"

"It was a little chorus, and it stuck in my head." — He explained, placing the small card in a reserved place next to him. — "I don't remember the name of the song, but it must be saved on my phone" — His eyes fell on you again. — "Then i can sing for you again." — Tom uttered with melody and his lips curving in a shy smile.

"So adorable and romantic" — You tilted your head, with a pleasant and welcoming smile, at your boyfriend finding your words cute. — "Oh, i think i know the answer to that, what is an item you never leave the house without?" — Your hands shook the small card, waiting for your boyfriend's response.

"You definitely know the answer!" — Tom stated in slurred words accompanied by a laugh. — "In New York, the key to my motorcycle and i have it all the time." — His chin bowed a little. — "And maybe, in the future, in your bag."

"One day i'll ride it, you can be sure." — One of the cameras focused on her face, capturing her words, or rather, a promise that you would love to keep one day.

"And i'll be there, my love." — Blyth took another card. — "Among all the characters' looks in the film, which one would you wear?"

"Definitely, all the looks worn by Tigris." — You moved your hands. — "In addition to being beautiful, they seem to be so comfortable, especially the one where she talks to Coriolanus after he tells her about Lucy Gray." — The image of the aforementioned scene was then shown in the video with editing. — "Hunter looks so beautiful in them."

"Definitely." — He agreed

"With all the sets and locations in the film, which one was your favorite?" — Another card was discarded by you. — "Tell us!" — His voice sounded curious and excited by the older man's response.

"Hm, i loved recording them all." — Tom turned his eyes to an invisible fixed point. — "But, i think i choose the cabin." — His attention returned to you. — "Even with those mosquitoes and little bugs that i've never seen in my life."

"You were scared of most." — Your laughs came in sync.

"It was impossible not to be scared!" — Tom added. — "There was one that almost got into my shirt and another in the river." — Taking another card, Tom read the words written on it and continued with a peculiar and curious expression. — "Name one unforgettable thing i've ever done for you." — The question came out slowly, delicately and with a touch of enthusiasm; and several moments, memories flashed in his mind. — "I'm excited for this."

"My god, it's impossible to give just one answer." — A slightly euphoric and nervous question left your lips, and you laughed nervously as you tried to think and choose just one of the moments and deeds that Tom has done for you. — "It's so hard to choose one." — And it wasn't exaggeration or drama.

"You don't have to think so much, darling." — Tom's voice calmed your mind so tight and focused on the answer; nervousness was visible on your face. — "I see the gears in your head locking up." — He joked, trying to relax you and leaving the cards in his lap and resting one of his hands on your leg.

Finally, something landed in your mind; It was completely automatic. — Like a lamp being turned on when touched.

"Well, it's recent, but, it's stuck in my head!" — You started. — "Ah, during the L.A premiere and you were wearing a pendant necklace and there was my initial." — The way you responded was sweet, soft and passionate in front of the camera lenses and people in the room. — "And i was speechless, just admiring that little piece and feeling like the most loved person in the world." — You sighed, with your eyes shining against the oldest's blue orbs.

"In my world, you're." — Tom confessed, looking directly into his eyes and his hand still remained on his leg. — "It was a surprise and i was so excited that i wanted to show it to you ahead of time." — That tall, young British man smiled with passion, which burned in his chest and had no embarrassment in showing it.

"A secret that no one knows and can now be revealed?" —Another slightly peculiar question.

"I have a photo, actually, a polaroid in my wallet." — Tom ran his hands through the pockets of his pants, looking for what he had mentioned, but, from his disappointed frown, the object was not present. — "It's not here, so it must be in your bag."

"100% chance." — Your head nodded, nodding in confirmation. — "Which photo is it?" — You asked, curious and wanting to see her later.

"One of the ones Rachel took backstage and it quickly became one of my favorites." — Without specification, several photos scrolled through your head. — "It was in the forest, and you were wearing a helmet, that of Coriolanus, of peacekeeper." — Oh, that!

"I think I even posted it on Instagram!" — Either it was still in your gallery, with a favorite star next to it, or, actually, in your feed. — "She's so adorable, i had her as the wallpaper on my phone for a long time."

"Now, that one I know very well." — Your boyfriend looked at the card between his fingers and then at you. — "A song that reminds me." — Tom bit his lip, vibrant and with the answer on the tip of his tongue.

"Definitely Daylight by Taylor Swift." — You pointed your index finger in his direction, thinking about more songs or explaining why you chose her. — "It's impressive how you manage to fit so well into almost all of her songs.

"And in all of our playlists, you always, always add this song." — He wasn't lying. — "I'm sure it'll be in my Spotify retrospective."

"Oh, and also that line." — You sat down in the chair again. — "In a world of boys, he's a gentleman." — Tom's ears, and those of some people behind the cameras, were witnesses to your quick and small singing; a lyric, which was also from Taylor, where fans marked it and made a point of putting it in each of his edits. — They've already shared it with you in your DM and you've already saved some videos. — "There are so many songs, i can't choose just one."

"Perfect." — Tom murmured, as his deeply, crystal clear irises admired and contemplated you.

[amerasdreams]

One of the most wonderful things about writing is not forcing anything, just putting 2 characters together and let them interact. Build the story and you just sit back and watch. Well, write the words but the characters decide what to say, what to do. Each action builds on the last, which gradually weaves an entire story.

[nexysworld]

Summary: After his last failed mission, the D.S.O dropped him off at the shelter. Grumpy and off-putting, his chances of leaving were bleak until you came along. Pairing: Dog Hybrid!Vendetta Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, MDNI, Smut, hybrid sex, unprotected sex, age gap, oral sex, knotting, mild dubcon reader into it though, cream pie, mentions of alcohol, mild angst, but also comfort, no use of y/n

Read on AO3 || Askbox || Masterlists A/N: A birthday gift for a wonderful person. <3 Also thanks to @explorevenus for helping with the banner photos, because Nexy still cannot Pinterest correctly. Title from the deftness song, Cherry Waves. I also have a bot based off this story: Character AI || Spicychat

Leon grumbled as he laid against the shitty bench-turned-bed inside the small gray walled kennel. There was only a folded up blanket for padding, to protect him from the cold cement beneath his back. It was a far cry to the plush and lavish hotel room beds previously provided by the D.S.O. His ears twitched as he curled in facing the wall, doing his best to drown out the sound of the other hybrids around him as well as the sound of the people looking around. His throat ached for the burn of some good whiskey.

He resented all of them – owners and the yipping little pups who they were here to claim. How many months had it been since he’d seen the dewy green of the grass outside. How many months since some poor soul decided to even peer into his kennel? Too many by his calculations.

Leon didn’t want an owner exactly, much more used to having his own freedom. It was one of the few good things about his previous employment. As a federal agent Leon had been allowed free reign for most things unlike the other hybrids who ran around playing butler-house-pet or fuck toy. An owner meant rules, it meant being friendly, it meant playing and being lovey – all the things he had grown to be inexplicably bad at.

He couldn’t deny though that somewhere deep within his alcohol riddled organs, it stung a little knowing that he was likely never leaving the kennel again, it was his prison.  An owner at least meant getting out of there. But alas, he wasn’t a puppy anymore, and between his age and ‘off putting personality’ as it stated on his papers, he knew it was a pipe dream.

He stretched his limbs, flopping onto his back, trying to push the thought out of his mind. Idly, he stared at the flickering light mounted to the ceiling, eyes following the creaky fan blades as they swirled around. It was almost enough to lull him into another dreamless nap, until he heard an unfamiliar gait heading his way. With no pups beyond his kennel he figured it was someone walking the wrong way, so he ignored it, returning to the fascinating task of counting specs on the ceiling tiles once he grew bored of the fan. 

“Hm?” One of his ears perked up as the footsteps stopped outside his room. A moment of silence, no further sound. The soft scent of some dainty perfume graced his nostrils. “What are you still standing there for? Puppies are the other way.” He called out idly, still not willing to acknowledge their presence with his eyes. 

“O-oh. Well…I wasn’t really looking for a puppy per se.”  Soft. Soft was the best way he could describe your voice, like his ears were being tucked into a cushiony blanket. He couldn’t decide if he hated it or not, but it intrigued him enough to finally sit up — it’d been a while since someone who sounded as sweet as you bothered to even look his way.

Scratching at his stubble he took you in, head to toe as he walked closer, leaning against the bars. Just as he thought; soft, sweet, cute, too young. “Not looking for a puppy?” He questioned, raising a dark brow. “You really think I’m your taste?”

Doe eyes darted to his little display plaque before back to his, he could tell you were nervous, the slightest rosy flush on your cheeks. “I think so.” The words weren’t confident, they wavered, your hands fidgeted. He wanted to laugh in dry amusement, but he wasn’t that mean. “Listen kid, unless you got a flask of whiskey hidden in your pocket, a cute thing like you is better off finding a puppy to fawn over.”

“I don’t want a puppy.” You said again, this time more firm, determination overtaking your features. “The whiskey can be arranged though.” 

“You’re joking.” “Nope. Dead serious.” “You read my file? You know how big of a grouch I can be.” “I did.I like a challenge.”  That ditzy little smile never left your face, but your eyes screamed sincerity. His eyes narrowed, he had both arms crossed while he considered what you were saying, squeezing the worn leather of his jacket. “There’s plenty of other old dogs around here.” “You’re not old.” “I’m 37.” “That’s not old.”

“Old for you.” “You don’t even know how old I am.” “You’re a real pain, you know that kid?” “I like you already.”  Leon tilted his head to the side, one ear flopping with the movement, his tail against his will wagging slowly behind him. You were interesting, that’s for sure, like a little warm dart shot into his iced over heart. For the briefest moment he felt hope, though he steeled it away as fast as it came – he knew better than to let emotions like that flourish. But at least he figured this could be a nice vacation.. “Know what? I like you too, kid. But don’t expect me to do any cute shit.” “No cute shit, got it.” 

The apartment was small, simple white walls, beige carpet that looked kinda scratchy. It reminded him of the first apartment he ever had, rented it himself when he began the police academy. That felt like a world away now – yet he could still remember the look on the manager’s face when he rolled up as a fresh-faced pup to sign the lease, his academy badge attached to his shirt. 

‘Wonder what my life would’ve been if I could’ve stayed that guy.’ He mused, following you around for the grand tour.  “It’s not much. But there’s a second bedroom you can have all to yourself, and the hall bathroom is all yours too.” 

He nodded, sniffing around the place, everything had your scent lingering on it, even down to the guest room sheets. That same dainty scent, he hated to admit it but it was nice, growing on him by the second – so much so he even felt his cock twitch in his pants. Surprising to him, he can’t remember the last time he popped a stiffy between the alcohol, work, and sour mood he’d been in forever.

When you weren’t looking he adjusted himself in his pants. You were saying something, but truthfully he was only half listening. “What was that?” “I was just saying how tomorrow we can stop and get you whatever you’re needing. I would offer you some of my pajamas but yknow…” 

“It’s fine, I’m a boxers kind of dog anyway.” He swatted you away dismissively. “Don’t worry about it either, I should still have some money in my account from my last job. I just have to get to the bank.” “Oh. Ok.” You replied. “Well uhmm, you know my room’s next door. If you need me for anything, don’t hesitate to come get me.” “Mhmm.” He didn’t say goodnight as he heard the door shut behind him. Not having much on his person to unpack, he decided to just strip for bed. He kicked his browned boots off into the corner, tossing the jacket on top. Opting to leave the tshirt on, he tossed his jeans over with the rest before flopping back onto the mattress. 

Truth be told, the silence was odd – even at the shelter there was always something or someone making noise. The loud industrial AC unit on blast, night puppies running around their rooms, idle chatter. Here there was just…silence, loneliness still. Despite the unease that set forth within him, he had to admit the feeling of a real mattress felt delightful, like floating on clouds. Rolling over he took the opportunity to bury his face in the pillow, finally getting to indulge in your scent as much as he wanted. His eyes squeezed shut, his tail wagged against the bed thumping each time it connected – he was glad for the privacy.  ‘I’m fucked up for this, she’s too young.’

He considered rubbing one out before falling asleep, but between the way he was sinking into the bed and the coolness of the pillow, he stood no chance. It wasn’t long before that sinking feeling of unconsciousness began to wrap itself around him. His cock could wait another day. 

For the first time in a long time, Leon dreamed while he slept. 

You sat in your own bed, unable to sleep. It was odd knowing that someone else was in your home for a change, but you supposed that was the whole point. 

Living alone was hard, kinda scary, and definitely lonely. Though the decision to get a hybrid was one you landed on impulsively. You considered a regular dog but that was more of a hassle than you wanted – what you really needed was a companion that could be independent. 

Leon’s picture was one of the first on the shelter’s website. You were surprised a dog his age was there, more surprised at how handsome he was if you were honest. His file caught your interest right away, previously employed, a government agent? The mystery behind that had you wanting to know more – was he like James Bond? Why would a government agent wind up in a shelter? Someone like that would make a good guard dog, right? 

And then of course when you saw him in person you knew you wanted him. Leather jacket, boots, and those cute fuzzy ears. God. It felt like his blue eyes pierced your soul, his locks framing his face – you loved it. 

Now here you were, he was in the room right next to you and yet you couldn’t get him off your mind. Looking over at the clock it was around midnight now. ‘Come on, just sleep. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you can talk to him.’ You reminded yourself, trying to will your brain into submission

It didn’t work. 

“This sucks.” You complained to yourself, hanging your legs over the side of the bed, rubbing at your eyes. Figuring stretching your legs and grabbing a glass of water might help, you pushed forward, quietly making your way out of the room and down the small hallway to the kitchen.

The chilling water felt like a rush of relief the moment it made contact with your mouth, legs feeling better after walking as well. You stretched almost like a cat, arms in the air, relishing in the feeling before deciding to head back to bed. 

Your trek back was interrupted by sound coming from behind Leon’s door, it was so quiet at first you almost ignored it, until his booming voice made you jolt where you stood. 

“Fuck you Patricio, you fucking coward! I should kill you myself.”  “What the hell?” Nosily you cracked his door slightly. “Leon? Everything alright?” There was no immediate response, but you heard shuffling on the bed, like he was thrashing around. This time you pushed the door open completely, hall light illuminating the room just enough to see his torso on the bed. 

Another noise left him, almost like a pained cry, then a whimper. “Fuck you.” He said again. “They’re all dead because of you…no…because of me.” His voice became quieter towards the end of his sentence. 

“Leon?” You cooed his name, sitting down on the edge of the bed. You weren’t sure what to do, but it hurt to see him struggle in unconsciousness. Gently you placed your hand on his cheek, he was clammy, the stubble rough against your hand. He didn’t seem any closer to waking, but you could feel his facial muscles tense – a growl left him as he rolled the other way. 

Daring to reach out, you pet at his ears gently, the short fur soft against your skin. “Hey, it’s alright.” You moved closer on the bed, intending to try and comfort him some more. Instead, your hand landed on his tail by accident. 

Leon jolted awake, and in an instant you were flipped onto your stomach, arm twisted and pinned to your back. Your muscles strained painfully, his grip bruising. His breath was hot against your ear, growling loud. “Ow!” You whimpered, face buried into the pillow. 

His nose pressed into your neck, sniffing a bit before he finally retracted slightly. You could feel his cock harden a little as it twitched through his boxers, pressed slightly in on your thigh from behind. “Oh shit.” He said, sleep addled brain fully catching up. “Shit, I’m sorry kid.” He didn’t move off of you completely, but he let go of your arm at least. “You alright?” “I think so.” “What were you even doing in here?” “You were having a bad dream. I wanted to make sure you were ok.” You mumbled against the pillow, flopping your arm to the side to ease the pain and tension from how it had been pulled. You weren’t sure what to do next, ask him to get off? Try to move? Stay still? While it should have scared you more than it did, you hadn’t expected him pinning you down to make you feel…exhilarated? That coupled with him pressed against you made your panties grow sticky with arousal. ‘This is awkward.’ You thought to yourself, hoping he didn’t notice. Hoping he would do something on his end to move the situation forward.

“Are you sure that’s the only reason you were in here?” You couldn’t see him, but you swore you could hear the smirk in his very words. He leaned over you again, this time his chest flush against your back, lips against your ear. “I can smell it on you, you know. Don’t even need to feel it to know you’re soaking.” 

“Wha–” Your face burned hot with embarrassment, more slick soaked your panties with just his words. “No I swear, I was just –” Your words were cut off instantly by the feeling of his tongue on the shell of your ear, the warm muscle teasing it, skin cooling the moment it moved away. 

“You smelled good earlier. But now? Now you smell like a fucking treat.” He said, burying his nose back into your neck, pressing his now nearly fully hard cock against you more. He ground down slightly as he took in your scent again. “Wanna just tear you apart, eat you up.” 

“Leon!” You gasped out, squirming under him. “Bad boy!” You managed to get out, though it lacked any real authority.  He snorted with amusement, leaning back, a firm grasp on your hips with both hands. “I’m bad? Who’s the one sneaking into someone else’s bed in the middle of the night?” He punctuated each word by grinding his clothed erection against your clothed cunt.  “I already said..I wasn’t… Bad, boy. Down!” You whimpered again, trying to sound firm this time, and failing again. 

“No can do.” He replied. “Got me all worked up now.” He gave a solid slap to your ass cheek, not enough to leave a mark, but just enough to sting lightly. “I warned you to go fawn over a puppy, didn’t I?” “L-leon –”

 “Not in control with me, Sweetheart. Shouldn’t get a pet you’re not ready to take care of.” 

You weren’t able to reply as he brought his hand between you from behind, rubbing at your clit through your panties. He ghosted his fingers there with just enough pressure to make you want more, but not enough to really push you over that cliff of euphoria. A needy whine worked it’s way out of you, and you ground your clothes pussy back against his hands, desperate for more pressure.  “That’s better.” He praised, rewarding you by letting rut against his hand. “Gonna cum just from that, aren’t you? Dirty little owner.” He teased.  “N-no” You attempted to protest, but he was right. It felt so good, though a little rough from the friction of the wet fabric. Your hips didn’t stop their movement against his warm hand, chasing that pleasure, each movement making you whimper into the pillow. It wasn’t long before you were cumming against his hand, him rubbing your back with his free one, coaxing you through it. “Atta girl,” he praised. 

While you caught your breath, he made quick work of your panties, not bothering to pull them off, opting to tear the thin fabric instead, leaving them torn between your legs. “Bet you taste as good as you smell.” He mumbled to himself, scooting down the bed enough that he could lean forward face to face with your wet folds. He gave no warning before he dove in, tongue lapping at you like you were dripping liquid gold. “Sweet as a fuckin’ treat.” He said, pulling away just long enough to take a breath before sucking on your clit gently, swirling his tongue around it.

Too sensitive from your previous orgasm, you kicked against the bed, back arching as you tried to get his attention. “S’too much.” You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut. If he heard you, he didn’t acknowledge it, simply pulling you closer to his face, strong arms keeping you pinned where you were as he continued devouring your cunt mercilessly. “S’too much!” You cried out again. 

With one more particularly hard suck, your whole body tensed, hole clenching around nothing as you came again. Hot pleasure radiated from your core, shooting zaps of pleasure that tingled your fingertips and made your toes curl. Little aftershocks of pleasure made your brain hazy as he eased up on the pressure, giving light licks now to savor your taste. 

Legs trembling, you were relieved when you felt him move from between your thighs, feeling his weight shift off the bed for a moment. When he returned, you realized he’d taken his boxers off, whining pathetically as he ran the hot sticky tip of his cock against your folds, bumping it over your clit again for good measure making you squeal. 

“Be a good girl and relax.” He said, finally pressing himself inside of you. It was just the tip but you already felt so full, like you were being speared with every inch. “Easy, easy….biiiiiiiiiiigggg stretch.” He cooed, finally burying himself to the balls. You had never felt so full before, mouth opening into a little ‘o’ shape, no sound coming out. Velvet walls tightened around him, making him hiss behind you. “No pushin’ me out, not ‘til I’m done.” He said, sliding out just a little before pressing back in. He did this a few times, slow shallow thrusts, easing you open for him.  Leon wrapped one arm around you, pulling you back so you were leaning against him as he rocked your bodies together. He splayed one hand against your stomach to help hold you in place, the other a firm grip on your neck. Not tight enough for you to be unable to breathe, but enough to cut off some of the blood supply, give your brain that heavy drowsy feeling – tongue flopping out in your dazed state. 

Tilting your head to the side, he lapped at the junction between your neck and shoulder before biting down on the spot, letting just his canines puncture the skin, careful to not draw too much blood. You gasped at the sensation, while it stung at first, each slam of his thick cock head to your cervix made any pain forgettable, enjoying the feeling of being stretched and filled.

He was close, you could tell by the rugged and uneven breaths he was taking, mixed with how he desperately rutted into you. He pressed you forward back onto the mattress, releasing your neck to reach down and lace his fingers through yours, his other hand maintaining its spot around you for support as he smacked his hips against yours. 

Leon came hard, balls tightening as he painted your insides white with thick ropes of cum. He rode out his own pleasure with deep but slow thrusts, holding you tightly against him. It wasn’t long before the knot on his cock stretched you out further, nearly at your limit. “I know, I know.” He said, rubbing your stomach gently as you squeezed his other hand. Once you seemed mostly adjusted, he carefully rolled both of you so that you were laying sideways, one leg bent back slightly over his to accommodate where your bodies were still linked. He held you close to him, nuzzling into your neck and lapping up any remaining blood from the bite mark. 

Silence passed as your bodies cooled down together, an overwhelming sleepiness taking over you. You rubbed at your eyes again before breaking the silence by calling out his name. “Leon?” “Yeah?” “Are you really ok though?” “Huh?” He sounded genuinely perplexed by the simple question. “The nightmare, it sounded…real…like a memory. Are you alright, like really alright?” You turned your neck as best you could, wincing slightly from the bruised bite that was now aching a bit, trying to see his face in the dark room.  “You were serious about that?”  “Yeah, I was worried. I told you I wanted to make sure you were alright.” “Shit …. I’m fine kid, promise. Just a bad memory that’s done and over with.” 

“Wanna talk about it?”  “Right now?” He asked incredulously.  “Well, yeah why not? Post nut clarity and all that.”  “You’re literally stuck on my – “ He cut himself off with a sigh. “You’re a weird one.”

“Yeah, I know. And you’re kinda grumpy, especially when you first wake up.”  He let out a laugh, it sounded genuine this time. His knot finally deflating, he slipped out of you gently so he could readjust the way you were laying so you were facing him. He pulled you closer, burying your face in his chest, resting his chin on your head. You could hear the telltale sound of his tail gently patting against the bed – a part of you wanted to point out that he did, in fact, do cute shit, but held your tongue. Instead you closed your eyes, letting the smile he couldn’t see spread over your features, relishing in his warmth, and the smell of his spiced cologne.  “Tell you what. Keep me around long enough and I might just tell you about the dream some day.” “Mmm and what if I keep you around forever?” His tail thumped harder at that question, a sign of his true feeling, it made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.  “Guess that remains to be seen.” You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off. “Go to sleep.” 

“Fine.” You conceded, too tired to really argue. A squeaky yawn escape you as you curled up into him, letting your eyes lid with sleep, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. 

[syoounn]

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸ 𝐈 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮~ ¸¸♫·¯·♪¸¸♩·¯·♬¸¸

▪︎Saying "I like you" to bsd characters as they're your husbands.

▪︎Fluff!

▪︎Characters: Chuuya, Fyodor, Sigma

Part 2

Chuuya

Your husband just got home from work as trudges his way into your shared bedroom as you immediately hugged him.

He smile softly at your small gesture, wrapping his arms back to you and snuggling back and spoke.

"I'm sorry I was late, Doll. I got stuck at my work"

He leans up slightly as he kisses your forehead. He’s always done things like this. The gesture is sweet, but it always feels so right. You’re his, and so he makes this fact known as often he can. You smiled and giggling...

"I waaanna say something chuu~"

He looks up at you in curiously as his hand brushing through your hair

"What is it?"

You leaned in to whisper to his ear

"I like you~" you said as you giggled.

His smile grows as you whisper that to him. While he’d usually be annoyed by such sappy statements, he can’t help the flush that forms on his cheeks.

“You like me..?”

He turns slightly to catch your gaze, the corners of his mouth curling into a small smirk.

“Hm, I like you too.”

He said with the charming smile on his face. You can't help but fall in love with him again. Chuuya chuckles softly, his brows furrowing in what appeared to be a thoughtful expression.

“I suppose that’s a silly thing for us to even say to each other. I mean, we are married for god’s sake- It would be pretty shitty of me," Chuuya chuckles softly, his brows furrowing in what appeared to be a thoughtful expression.

"I still wanna say it", You said.

Chuuya snorts, then chuckles. His smirk becomes a smile as he looks at you adorably. “Then say it again. Go ahead.”

"I like you so much...!" you said proudly as you looked at him. Chuuya smiles brightly at this, not bothering to hide his blush anymore. Chuuya tilts his head to the side curiously, but he doesn’t pry any further. He knew that you would tell him the ‘why’ when you felt like it.

Instead, he wraps his arms around you tightly.

“And I like you.” As he said that, you both ended up cuddling and laying on bed and peacefully sleeping tonight.

Fyodor

You waited for your husband to come back home, as you heard the door and opened and immediately get up to see who it is..

"Greetings Myshka, Im back.."

You immediately rushed to go hugged fyodor as he returns your embrace, one of his hands resting on your back as his cheek presses against your hair.

" It's good to be back with you, May I ask favor?"

You smiled as you eager to tell him something silly and he knows... you're excited to tell him.

"I wanna say something first!"

You said excitedly, "Oh?" Fyodor hums, letting go of you and leaning against the nearest wall. "Go on, dear. Speak your mind."

"I like you..!" You said while smiling warmly.

Fyodor smiles, amused, as he looks down at you. "I am aware of that, dear. Why do you want to bring it up right now?"

"Nothing... just wanna say it to you..."

"Very well, I appreciate your directness, dear."

Fyodor chuckles. But then, something crosses his mind, and his grin drops. "However, I must ask you a different question. May I?"

You tilted your head on confusion, "Hm?"

"Please be a good girl and head into the bedroom for me, would you?"

You were more confused to a sudden request, "But it's too early.." You said as you were drinking some water.

"I believe it's about time we made our marriage... physical." He said gently as he looks rather serious...

"You will be an excellent mother, I am sure of it" He smiled gently.

You were shocked and choked on the water.. it was just all of a sudden as you were coughing.

"Ah.. Myshka, You should drink slowly... Now.. get prepared as I'll do my husband duty to satisfy you..."

Sigma

Your husband Sigma loved the most is his Sky Casino and especially you... the one who is currently cuddling him.

"My love, could i please get back to work?"

He asked holding you with a soft smile, while looking at you with the shy loving gray eyes of his.

"No... just five more minutes.." You said as you protest to let him go.

He chuckled softly to himself as he heard you protest, though he still kept his soft smile on his lips.

“You know our employees need my guidance right?” He asked while playing with your fingers.

“But don’t worry, I won’t be gone for long anyways…" He said softly while rubbing his thumb on your fingers. “Just let me go back to work and manage and in no time I’ll be back and I’ll make sure to kiss you all over!”

You finally let go as you spoke. "Fine but i wanna say something first!"

He then looked at you with curiosity waiting for something you have to say.

You leaned closer to his ear and whispered,

"I like you so much.."

Sigma’s cheeks immediately went hot right after hearing you confess to him that you liked him a lot. He couldn’t help but feel his heart beat a bit faster than usual. He smiled a shy smile as he processed everything you said.

“I…” He hesitated for a moment, trying to think of the right words to say but nothing really came up to mind. Instead of giving you a proper reply, he hugged you tighter against him as he rested his chin on top of your head.

You exactly knew how to make him flustered.. as you get up and giggling and leaving him flustered.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You stand on your tiptoes, a dangerous choice as you stand on a wooden stool, reaching to clip pegs around the folded edge of the linen sheet. You clasp it over the cord in three places and reel along the length, bending to pull a wet pillowcase from the basket.

“You’re grinding on the clutch,” Walter’s voice carries through the barn door before he emerges, “you need another driving lesson.”

“I know how to drive stick,” your brother, Timothy, argues with the larger man. “It’s not the clutch.”

“Ermph,” the other man grunts in return.

“Thanks for having a look though,” Timothy slaps his arm lightly.

He gets another grumble from the chronically grumpy man. Walter is older than your brother, by quite a bit; and you too. He’s tall and burly and his brow never truly loses its furrow. He’s fonder of your father than Timothy; you’re sure if he didn’t feel some kinship with your father, he’d never venture this far.

Walter is a big, burly man. He has a lumbering gait you can recognise even as he’s at the property’s edge, and his curly hair falls messily around his chiseled face. There’s a touch of silver in one curl but his age doesn’t show otherwise.

You refocus on hanging the laundry. You stand on your toes and strain to clip the beg on the line. The stool wobbles and you put your feet flat, steadying it. You suck in your lower lip and look around. Timothy’s gone, you hear him back in the barn clattering through the toolbox, but Walter remains. He narrows his eyes at you as you give a sheepish smile.

“Hi, Mr. Marshall,” you say.

“Hey,” he returns in his way.

You don’t expect much more so you wind the line further and once more bend to take another piece of clothing. You quickly forget his presence and go back to your precarious game. Back on your toes, the stool tips and you gasp, a scream catching in your throat as you brace yourself for the violent tumble.

You don’t hit the ground though. You barely even tip as you're caught under the arms. You open your eyes as Walter holds you well over the ground. He does so effortlessly. 

“I… Mr. Marshall, thank you,” you breathe.

“You shouldn’t do that,” he grits.

“Um, I know,” you wiggle your feet and look at the ground, “um, can you put me down.” He does just that and you laugh at yourself, “thanks.”

“Hm,” he sidles down to the basket. 

To your surprise he takes out the next sheet and easily throws it over the line. He holds out a hand but you just stare at his calloused palm. What is he doing?”

“Pin,” he demands gruffly.

“Oh, uh, sure,” you step up and place a pin in his hand. His fingers brush around yours as he closes them. You retract your reach as he clasps it over the linen. He puts his hand out for the next and again, you hand one over.

“Don’t do it again,” he says as he grabs the next piece of laundry.

“Mr. Marshall, I won’t, but you don’t need to–”

“It’s fine,” he carries on, set on his mission of putting out the drying. “Your father wouldn’t be happy if I let you hurt yourself.”

“Erm, I guess,” you give him another pin.

He’s silent as his blue gray eyes fixate on his chore. He bends to grab more, drapes the cloth over, and takes a pin to secure it in place. You work in wordless rhythm until the basket is empty and the line is full.

“How is he?” He asks.

You put your hands behind you and wring them, “better. Ma says he’ll be home next week.”

He nods and looks at you. He crosses his arms, straining the fabric of his long-sleeved tee. It’s warm out, enough to dampen his shirt with sweat. Still, he doesn't seem to mind.

“If you need anything,” he peers around the fields, “big place for just you and the other one.”

“Oh, Tim? Yeah, we manage.”

He scratches the scruff on his chin and shifts his stance. You’ve never seen him flinch before, never hesitate or doubt, but in that moment, he seems unsure. He clears his throat and drops his hand.

“Well, have a good day,” he bows his head slightly. “Have your brother take down the laundry.”

You look away guiltily, staring at the stool, “you, too, Mr. Marshall.”

He backs away a few steps and you cautiously glance at his boots as he does. He stops and you hold your breath.

“I don’t mind Walt,” he says.

“Right,” your voice flutters, “Walt.”

He twists on his heel and continues across the grass to the trodden road. He follows it down towards the fence. You tear your gaze away and gather up the basket and the stool. You leave them on the porch and sit in the shade as sweat speckles on your forehead.

Your heart is still racing, likely from your near disastrous slip. You think you will have Timothy take down the sheets. You may even convince him to help your fold.